


Focus

by SML8180



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dark can be soft when he needs to be, Eric Deserves Love, Gunfire/Gun mention, Panic Attacks, ptsd (mention)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SML8180/pseuds/SML8180
Summary: Trauma and anxiety are things that can last a lifetime. Eric has been working with several other egos, and is making progress in trusting them. An incident on the set of Wilford's show causes his anxiety to peak, though, and Dark is the one to help him when he needs it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a prompt I found while going through lists of writing prompts and compiling a prompt notebook for when I have writer's block.
> 
> The prompt was: "Focus on me, okay?"

Eric Derekson hadn’t had an easy life by any means. He had lost his brothers, his mother, his girlfriend, his pets, and now only had his father, who wasn’t the caring type. Derek was overbearing, in a way, and extremely pushy with Eric; he forced him in front of the camera to film commercials, belittled him for being so anxious, and constantly compared him to his late brothers, all while claiming that Eric would never live up to the family name. It was no wonder Eric was constantly anxious and wary of everything around him.

With some under the table help from Dr. Iplier, though, he was making slow progress. It was  _ very  _ slow progress, but it was at least something, and that was better than nothing. The doctor had adjusted Eric’s prosthetic legs, making it so they fit better and didn’t pinch like they had been, and had started to teach Eric ways to manage his anxiety. It was slow going, and sometimes difficult, with Derek being against the idea that his son could even be helped and being extremely set in his ways.

Eric often had issues communicating with his father, but the opportunity he’d been told of by Dr. Iplier had him excited enough that he forced himself to confront the man. He had told his father that he had learned about a television studio not too far away from them that was looking to hire an audio-video technician. Derek initially shrugged this off, but begrudgingly agreed to allow Eric to go in for the interview when he learned that the pay Eric could make would be enough for him to hire someone more competent than his son.

Eric had rehearsed what he would say until the moment he was brought in for his interview. There were points where he stumbled a bit under the cold gaze of the man across the desk from him, he stammered through some of the questions, but did his best to make it clear that he knew what he was talking about when it came to the specifics of what he would be doing. He’d been interested in what went on behind the scenes of television broadcasts since he was a child, and the occasions where his father allowed him to stay behind the camera had allowed him to learn quite a bit. In the end, things had gone fairly well; with Eric’s knowledge and clear desire to learn, and Dr. Iplier’s recommendation, the young man got the job.

At first, Eric had been his usual anxious self. He tried his best not to screw up, starting out on the set of a news program run by a set of twins. They were energetic, and the camera work was sometimes fast and loose, but it was clear that their usual cameraman was glad to have an extra set of hands. Eric was able to help set up a switch system for their cameras, so that the usual tech could change between them more easily. After a few weeks, Eric was put on the set of a game show, but the noise proved to be too much for him, and he was moved to another set, Warfstache Tonight.

The Warfstache set was still chaotic, but the main showrunner made sure to keep the peace as much as she could. Eric seemed to fit right in on the set; he made suggestions concerning the placement of lights to cut down on awkward or distracting shadows, set up the cameras to better catch the faces of Wilford and his guests, and suggested they look into getting newer lavalier microphones, as the ones they were using were older and bulkier.

The thing with anxiety, though, is that someone can be doing well for a while, but it can take just one small thing to cause them great distress. Eric’s run of doing well was broken by a shot being fired from the revolver Wilford kept at his desk. The young man could feel the coil of panic tighten in his chest at the noise and stepped back from the camera. A second shot rang out, and Eric found he was shaking and it was getting harder to breathe. He ran out after a third shot was fired; he wasn’t thinking about anything but getting away from the noise.

Dark was forcing himself to take a break from his work. He was walking the halls of the office floor, checking in on the Google brothers and Host when he heard gunfire on the floor below them. He shook his head, knowing that it was Wilford slipping back to his old ways. The man didn’t think it would be worth the aggravation to go down and investigate; Kathryn would call him down if she couldn’t handle the situation on her own. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom, looking to check on his eyeliner, out of habit, mostly. When he went to enter, though, he was met with a surprise.

Rather than the usual silence, Dark could hear sniffling. None of the stalls seemed to be occupied at first glance, as none of them were locked, but one stall, down at the end of the row, was mostly shut, and Dark could see that there was somebody sitting on the floor. It wasn’t much of a mystery as to who it was.

“Eric?” Dark quietly addressed, approaching the stall where the young man had hidden himself away. He got no response as he got closer to the door, and he was able to see Eric sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, wringing his yellow handkerchief in his hands, while his head was down, hiding part of his face and his glasses which were fogging up from the heat of his face meeting the cool air in the bathroom. Dark knelt down near the young man, trying to think of what to do.

With everything that went on in his head, and everything he had experienced, Dark himself had developed anxiety; Dr. Iplier even brought up the possibility of him having PTSD, and Dark couldn’t disagree with that. He did his best to keep these things to himself, considering he had to manage most of the studio and keep his fellow egos in line. His symptoms weren’t usually all that intrusive, but there were days where Dark found it nearly impossible to function. Thus, Dr. Iplier had taught him a handful of techniques that helped. Now wasn’t the time for anything complicated, though. Eric needed something simple; he needed something to steady his breathing and to ground him.

“Eric, look at me,” Dark calmly urged. When the younger ego didn’t even glance up, he set a hand on his shoulder.

Eric looked up at Dark, looking at the man through his foggy glasses. His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t breathe easily. His hands were shaking as he held his handkerchief tight.

Dark carefully took Eric’s glasses off him, taking his own handkerchief out and wiping them clean before putting them back on the young man’s face. “Just focus on me, okay?” he suggested, keeping his voice calm and level. Eric nodded, and Dark returned the gesture, shifting to sit cross legged on the floor. He urged the young man in front of him to do the same, keeping a hand on his shoulder. The man carefully took one of Eric’s wrists in his hand, bringing the young man’s hand towards him, lightly pressing his hand to his chest.

Eric’s heart was still hammering in his chest, while his mind raced. He was trying his best to focus on the man in front of him, watching as the older ego held his hand to his chest, the grip on his wrist firm but caring.

“Focus on me,” Dark urged, his voice pulling Eric’s gaze to his face. “I want you to breathe with me, slow and deep,” he instructed. Before Eric was able to respond in any way, Dark began to take a deep breath, going slow and making sure Eric was following his lead. After holding the breath for a few seconds, he slowly exhaled. Dark didn’t need to breathe, not like the others did, but he had found that taking deep breaths even helped him, as it was something to focus on. He repeated the same cycle with Eric a few times, helping him settle his breathing, keeping the young man’s focus on him the entire time.

The young man focused on the figure in front of him. His breathing was slowing to a normal rate again, and his heart no longer felt like it was going to break through his chest. His thoughts had calmed down, as well, the panicked fog lifting.

“There we go,” Dark mused, his voice still soft as he let go of Eric’s wrist. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I-I-I don’t know why… He, he just s-started shooting…” Eric stammered. His voice was hoarse from crying, and his throat was tight and dry, making his voice more quiet than usual. He could hardly remember what had even happened; the last thing he remembered was the gunfire, he couldn’t even recall why Wilford had started shooting in the first place.

“It’s alright, don’t get yourself worked up again. Host isn’t around today, but if you think it’ll help, we can get you a bottle of water and you can sit in my office where it’s quiet while I talk to Wilford. How does that sound?”

Eric could only nod, finding his throat too sore to speak up. He watched as Dark stood, and took his hand, pulling himself up. His legs were a bit shaky from the last bit of adrenaline coursing through his system, and there was no doubt he’d be exhausted for most of the afternoon because of the inevitable crash that was going to hit him. The young man walked with Dark, and the pair stopped to get Eric a bottle of water before going to Dark’s office.

He sat down on the black sofa in the office, taking a sip of his water while he watched Dark leave to talk with Wilford. Eric wasn’t sure how long he was alone in Dark’s office before the grey ego came back. The man didn’t seem much different than he usually was, he didn’t seem overly upset or annoyed, which Eric could only assume was a good thing.

“Kathryn is taking care of things,” Dark told Eric, sitting on the sofa, making sure Eric had a comfortable amount of space. “Wilford still has his job, for now, anyways. The next time he’s filming, either she or I will be on set with you, to make sure he doesn’t pull this sort of stunt again.”

“Thank you…” Eric replied, his voice still sounding a bit rough. “How did you learn how to do that…?”

“The deep breathing?” Dark questioned, looking towards the young man. Eric nodded. “Dr. Iplier taught me. Sometimes you just need something to focus on.”

“Do… Do you ever, u-um,” Eric began, uncertain of just how he should phrase what he wanted to ask.

“Get anxious? Have panic attacks?”

“Y-yeah…”

“I do. Not often, but sometimes.”

Eric looked at Dark, seeming a bit surprised at the response. “I never would have thought…”

“I manage it well. With Dr. Iplier’s help, I have more good days than bad ones. The important thing is to find something that works, whatever that might be. What I’ve found works for me is to just have something to focus on.”

“Like breathing.”

“Exactly. If you find yourself getting too worked up, just take deep breaths and count, just like we did today. Find something simple, and focus on it; ground yourself.”

“Alright,” Eric mumbled. The younger ego did his best to stifle a yawn, but the adrenaline crash was hitting him hard, tiring him out.

“I told Wilford and Kathryn that you would be here recovering,” Dark told him. “Katherine said you can stay with me as long as you need. Get some rest, Eric,” he suggested.

Eric nodded a bit, setting his water aside and settling on the sofa. It wasn’t long before he started to drift off, falling asleep in the quiet office. Dark pulled the dark red throw blanket off the back of the sofa and carefully draped it over the young man, before heading over to his desk. He kept an eye on Eric for a few moments, and soon started to settle in to his work, simply letting the other ego rest. It seemed Dr. Iplier had been right the last time they spoke about Eric. He, like Dark, needed something to focus on, and though Dark couldn’t do much for him, he could at least give him that; he could provide something Eric could focus on.


End file.
